


a consolatory gesture

by keijibeam



Series: simple vs. complicated [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, and then washio makes a dad joke, other than that this fic is extremely G, used a T rating bc konoha says a handful of swears like the punk kid he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keijibeam/pseuds/keijibeam
Summary: konoha wants consolation, but it takes washio a few tries to figure out what that means.
Relationships: Konoha Akinori/Washio Tatsuki
Series: simple vs. complicated [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157753
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	a consolatory gesture

**Author's Note:**

> this is a companion piece to my ongoing bokuaka fic, "i'll be waiting." it takes place between chapters 3 & 4\. if you haven't read that fic, you'll be missing the context, but you'll probably be able to pick up enough within this story to get the point across. so if you want to read it HELL yeah but if you don't, nbd.
> 
> the only piece of information you need to know is that "pan" is japanese for bread :)

Tatsuki had to admit, he felt a little happy when Konoha grabbed his wrist and dragged him away toward his house that evening.

Despite his good news, Akaashi had seemed...off. He wasn’t as happy as he should be. Wasn’t as happy as Konoha had been when _he_ received that position. Tatsuki wanted to offer words of encouragement or a pat on the shoulder, but their former setter dragged him away too quickly for him to offer anything.

He’d pulled him away at a sprint first; once they were far enough -- a few blocks away -- it turned into a fast walk. Now they walked leisurely side by side. Konoha had let go of his wrist a long time ago, but Tatsuki longed to reach out and grab his hand.

“Konoha?”

Konoha gave away no indication that he’d been heard.

“I wonder if it was alright to leave Akaashi alone.”

“He’s got Bokuto,” Konoha frowned. “He’ll be fine.”

That was true. If anyone could cheer him up, it would be the person closest to him, who was by far Bokuto.

“You might be right. Still…”

“Still…?” Konoha cast a glance toward him.

“Still,” Tatsuki continued, “I’m sure he would have appreciated it had we stayed a little longer.”

Konoha sucked his teeth and quickened his pace. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

Tatsuki had no trouble keeping up. “My tone?”

“Yeah. It’s like you’re judging me.”

Konoha hummed defiantly and crossed his arms as they reached a street corner. They waited for the light to change and Tatsuki turned to Konoha, examined his profile, watched how the streetlights cast shadows across his cheeks and made his appearance look ghoulish. It was a sight Konoha would enjoy, could he see it. The shadows that swept across his face represented his mood almost too accurately. The light changed, and they began to cross the street.

“You’re right. I was judging you.”

Konoha flinched, taken aback, and nearly stumbled over in the middle of the crosswalk. Tatsuki caught his arm and set him upright. He made no effort to hide the small smile that grew across his face.

“It seemed like you were running away from Akaashi back there. I thought you seemed cowardly for doing so. That _is_ a judgment.”

Konoha stared, his mouth hanging slightly open, and then he snapped it shut.

“Okay, I guess I deserve _that_ judgment. Doesn’t mean I have to appreciate it.” They crossed the street and stopped in front of a convenience store. Konoha nodded toward it. “I need a snack. You coming?”

Before he could answer, Konoha was inside, peering into the ice cream freezer. Tatsuki followed and looked through the snacks, picking out a teriyaki flavored fish jerky. He placed it on the counter as Konoha set down his ice cream bar.

“I’ll get it,” Tatsuki said, pulling his wallet out.

Konoha said nothing and nudged him with his elbow. Once they were outside he turned to Tatsuki, took a bite of his ice cream, and gnashed his teeth together. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” Tatsuki tore open his jerky and popped a piece in his mouth. “I wanted to.”

“Out of pity?”

The shadows that played across Konoha’s face were no longer ghoulish. They exaggerated his features and made him look tired, vulnerable. This expression, Tatsuki thought, Konoha wouldn’t care to see.

“No. I don’t pity you.”

“Ah.” Konoha held the ice cream bar between his teeth, casting his eyes down. “So you did it...because of _that?_ ”

 _That,_ Tatsuki surmised, was a reference to what he had revealed to Konoha just a few days ago; the feelings he had expressed as their training camp had begun. Maybe Konoha looked so nervous because he hadn’t decided how to respond yet. That was fine. He didn’t want Konoha to feel anxious over _that,_ among all of his other troubles.

“That’s part of it,” he answered honestly, “but isn’t this natural among friends? We’ve bought each other snacks before.”

“I guess that’s true.” Konoha took another loud bite of his ice cream and started back up the street. As they entered Tatsuki’s neighborhood, the streets became less busy, the noise quietened down. The silence between the two of them wasn’t uncomfortable, but Tatsuki still sensed something unspoken in it.

“When you pulled me along behind you,” he began, “I thought you wanted someone to vent to, but you haven’t mentioned it yet. If you did want to…”

“I mean, it’s all I’m thinking about. I don’t really wanna talk about it, though.”

“I understand.” For a few moments, Tatsuki was contemplatively quiet. And then, “you’re not holding any resentment toward Akaashi, are you?”

“What?!” Konoha spun toward him so fast, he almost lost his ice cream. “Of course not!”

“I didn’t think so.” Tatsuki held back a grin that itched at the corner of his mouth. “But you know how Akaashi is. The way you stormed off, he’s bound to think you do.”

“I know! Shit!” He shoved the last of his ice cream bar in his mouth, grinding his teeth together angrily. “I can’t help it if that guy overthinks everything! I’m just...” Konoha dropped to the ground in a squat, wrapping his arms around his head and shouting, “ _so embarrassed!_ I’m ashamed I lost my spot and I’m upset at Akaashi for taking it from me -- and I _know_ what I just said and I _know_ that I’m contradicting myself -- and then I get so PISSED at myself for ever thinking anything bad about my most sweet, innocent kouhai, and I get pissed at myself for being embarrassed, and that just makes me more mad and more embarrassed -- and it just doesn’t fucking end!”

He bent down beside Konoha and put a hand on his shoulder. “Does it feel any better now that you got that off your chest?”

Konoha turned his head, looked up at Tatsuki, and let out a deep breath. “Maybe it did a little.” He stood back up, then grabbed his arms and shuddered. “But now my ice cream is gone and I’m cold as hell. Why’s it so chilly out anyway? It’s still summer, isn’t it? Is fall here already? It’s only gonna get colder from here on out. I hate it when the seasons change.”

He didn’t mention the fact that Konoha had eaten half of an ice cream bar in one bite, or that they were both wearing t-shirts and shorts, or that in his opinion, it was still pretty warm out. Instead, without thinking, he said, “I like when fall arrives.”

Konoha shot a glare toward him. “Really? Why?”

It was certainly more of a rhetorical disparagement rather than a sincere question, but nonetheless it made Tatsuki’s heart pound just a little harder. He stated facts; that was the only way he knew how to communicate. For some reason, answering Konoha then made him feel timid.

“Well...Akinori...means autumn…”

He looked down at his jerky, the bag of which lay crushed in one palm. Konoha snorted and Tatsuki looked up to see his hand pressed to his mouth, a wild smile still visible in his eyes, just before the laughter erupted from him and he bent over, clutching his stomach.

“Bahahah! You seriously just said that?! What the hell?!”

Even though Konoha was laughing at him, the sound of it made Tatsuki’s head feel full, foggy, and made his chest feel warm.

“I enjoy the sound of your laughter,” he said, again, without thinking, because the results the first time had been so pleasant.

Konoha looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, met his eyes, and his laughter slowly started to fade. He wiped his eyes and stood upright as his smile morphed into a frown.

“That’s a pretty cute thing to say,” he said, wiping the back of his hand across his cheeks, then wiping that against the hem of his shirt.

Tatsuki turned his head and stared at the pavement. His face grew warm.

“You should be funny more often,” Konoha said. Tatsuki looked back up to see his arms crossed and a scowl across his face. He looked as headstrong as ever.

Tatsuki squinted at him, furrowed his brow. His face still felt warm, grew warmer, and that only added to his confusion, made it harder to process the words and expressions of Konoha.

A deep, exasperated sigh came from Konoha, as if he was explaining the most obvious thing in the world. “If you like hearing me laugh, then you should try harder to make it happen. Duh.”

Something about Konoha’s obstinate tone and the high Tatsuki still felt from hearing his laughter emboldened him. “There’s more I like about you,” he professed, and if he had been anybody else, the dangers of being too overt, of scaring Konoha away with the intensity of his feelings, might have come to mind. But he was Washio Tatsuki. All he could do was state what was on his mind.

“I like your laugh, and your smile, and the crease that forms between your eyebrows when you listen to other people speak,” he started, and Konoha’s eyes grew wide. “I like that your expressions so often differ drastically from how you feel on the inside. I like how your sullen disposition gives the impression that you’re troubled by others, but you actually prefer the company of the people who seem to annoy you the most, like Bokuto and Komi.”

As Tatsuki took a breath, Konoha waved his hand in an attempt to cut him off. “Okay, I get it -- ”

“I like the color of your eyes and the way you say my name. I like how you care so much about others that it makes you angry and the dimple in your cheek that forms when you frown. I even like how, despite the fact that you’ve known you were going to be cut from the team before the training camp began, you held it in all week, never showing how upset you were once -- I don’t like that you made yourself suffer silently, but I’m indescribably happy that I’m the one you chose to show this side of yourself to.”

Konoha’s expression twisted into something unreadable. “You saw that?”

Tatsuki nodded. “I think I can imagine the answer, but...why didn’t you say anything?”

Konoha squatted down again, but he didn’t hide his head in his hands. He held the ice cream bar stick between his hands, snapping it into smaller and smaller pieces. “Coach said not to. Not that I would have, anyway. What would be the point? Everyone was gonna find out sooner or later. Plus, it might’ve freaked Akaashi out if he caught on. I didn’t want him to...I didn’t want the pressure to get to him, and make him mess up, and have the coach decide against it, or...whatever.”

His head still faced down toward the pavement; the wood twisted between his fingers, the pieces too small to be broken down any further. Tatsuki crouched down beside him. Instead of patting him on the shoulder, he ran his fingers through Konoha’s hair, tucked the strands behind his ear. At the gesture, Konoha looked up, and Tatsuki’s hand moved to his cheek.

“You’re surprisingly kind, Konoha.”

He expected a snarky comment or a roll of the eyes, but Konoha didn’t say anything. He didn’t look angry anymore. When their gazes met, his eyes softened, and Tatsuki’s thumb absentmindedly stroked his cheek. Then he pulled his hand away, suddenly realizing how intimate the gesture was, and stood up. Konoha followed. He didn’t seem bothered by it, if he had thought anything of it at all. A silence passed over them as they continued down the street. The silence wasn’t as tense as it had been before. Maybe Konoha had relieved himself of a little of the burden he felt. If Tatsuki had helped him to do so, he felt grateful for it.

Not much time passed before they reached Tatsuki’s house. Though some of his neighbors had a plant or shrubbery in front of their homes, his house sat against the sidewalk with no yard to speak of. The garage touched the street and to the side of it, a paved walkway led up to a fence that reached just between Tatsuki and Konoha’s heights; beyond that was his front door.

As they passed through the driveway, Konoha paused midway. He put a hand on Tatsuki’s shoulder to stop him, then his hand dropped to Tatsuki’s wrist, then he pulled it away altogether. Finally, he settled on putting both hands behind his back.

“You know, I’m pretty vulnerable right now.” Konoha turned his chin up, looking away from Tatsuki and toward the sky. “I just had my sport heart broken, after all.”

Tatsuki’s eyebrows knit in confusion. Konoha rarely stated his feelings so plainly. His eyes darted to Tatsuki’s for only a second, long enough to register his expression, then he looked back up at the sky, shuffling his feet from side to side.

“I’m saying...I’m pretty desperate for consolation right now.”

“Oh.” Tatsuki lifted his hand to Konoha’s shoulder and gave it a gentle pat. “Is there something else you’d like to do? It’s not too late, we could go to the arcade or -- ”

“I’m _saying,_ ” Konoha’s face was still turned up, and it was hard to tell with him standing in the shadows like that, but Tatsuki could have sworn that a swath of pink had begun to sprout along his cheek, “if you were to make a move, I don’t think I could turn you down.”

Tatsuki’s grip tightened against Konoha’s shoulder as he tried to remember how to breathe. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply through his nose, and dropped his hand to the side.

“I don’t want to kiss you.”

Konoha’s face whipped toward him and Tatsuki could see for certain now that a flush had covered most of it. The expression he wore appeared red, angry, embarrassed. He took a step back, and then another, going until his back came up against the garage door.

“Okay!” He shouted. “That’s fine! I only said _move_ but you interpreted that as _kiss,_ huh? Wow! I was just trying to throw you a bone because I thought you liked me -- and I felt bad for dragging you along to keep me company while I wallowed in my own misery, but whatever! Rejected twice in one night...wow!”

“Konoha.” Tatsuki took a step closer and Konoha curled in on himself, crossed his arms in front of his chest. He wanted to touch him, rest his hands against his arms, run his hands through his hair, pull him into an embrace and crush him in his grip. He didn’t do any of those things. He took a step closer and minded the distance between them.

“I don’t want to kiss you because I don’t want our first kiss to be out of consolation. I want to kiss you after you’ve returned my feelings, if that ever happens. I don’t want our relationship -- our friendship or...any other relationship that may form between us -- I don’t want that tainted by impure feelings.”

“You…” Konoha held one hand to his face, covering his eyes completely, and used the other to press his index finger into Tatuski’s chest. “You think you're some...gallant knight, or whatever? You only told me you liked me after you heard the coach cut me from the team, but you’re still gonna act like you don’t wanna pity me?”

Tatsuki’s brow knit tighter together; he wrapped his hand around the finger held against him, the finger that pointed at him like a vacuum, sucking all the warmth from his chest. Konoha’s face was completely hidden, which only made it easier to imagine the ways in which his expression could be twisted beneath his hand.

“It wasn’t out of pity, Konoha. I’m sorry about the timing, if that made my feelings seem insincere -- ”

“Relax, I get it.” The hand against Tatsuki opened and Konoha’s palm pressed against him, shoving him lightly. Then Konoha dropped both of his hands to his sides, revealing his face. “I know you’re not such a jerk you would make up a crush to try and make me feel better. I just...I can’t believe you sometimes.”

Tatsuki responded with silence, but for once, it wasn’t because he thought words were unnecessary. He didn’t know what to say. Nobody ever felt confused by Tatsuki; he was straightforward to a near fault. Not only had he perplexed Konoha, but Konoha sounded annoyed; despite that, the tiniest of smiles sprouted on his face. _He_ was the one who should be confused. He _was_ confused. Konoha absolutely dumbfounded him.

A kick to his shin brought him back to reality.

“So,” Konoha said, “you’re not gonna kiss me, not gonna pretend to like me, not gonna buy me a pity snack. I need _some_ type of consolation. What else ya got?”

Tatsuki thought for a long moment before he offered, “tea?”

At first, Konoha’s expression read blank, neutral -- and then a sharp burst of air escaped his lips, and he keeled over once again in laughter.

“Tea?! That’s what you offer me? You took my advice about working on your comedy routine to heart, huh? Hey, I’ll accept it anyway. Make me a cup of tea.”

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


They took their tea in Tatuski’s room. Tatsuki slowly sipped at his tea as he sat on his bedroom floor; Konoha’s mug sat abandoned on the small table in the center of the room. He sprawled out, his legs taking up all of the space beneath the table while he leaned back on his hands, and groaned.

“I had all week to come to terms with it. I thought I had prepared myself. Still...I don’t want to go home. I feel like once I do, it’ll be real.”

“It already happened,” Tatsuki said. “It’s real, whether or not you go home.”

Konoha turned to him with a scowl on his face. “That’s not exactly the type of consolation I was looking for.”

“I know. And I know it might not make you feel any better to hear, but the fact that you made it on the team in the first place is impressive, especially at a school like ours.” 

The scowl across his face faded as Konoha closed his eyes and hung his head back. In the brightly lit small space of Tatsuki’s bedroom, there were no shadows that danced across his face. It was just Konoha, wearing a relaxed expression; soft, tired, but not unhappy.

“You’re special, Konoha.”

“Special, huh?”

Konoha didn’t react more than that, so Tatsuki went back to sipping his tea. He didn’t mind the silence. If Konoha wanted to sit like this all night, he would gladly bask in his silence.

“Hey, Washio.” Konoha turned to him then, his eyes peeking open.

At the sound of his name, Tatsuki turned toward Konoha. Something had lit up in his expression, something that flashed across his face. His lips twitched as if a smile waited behind them.

“What is it that made you decide to confess?”

Tatsuki breathed out an “ah” and turned away, suddenly intent on finishing the last of his tea.

“We’ve established it wasn’t out of pity, and I can assume it wasn’t anything like a bet or a dare. You said you’d liked me for a while, so...what was it about that day in particular?”

His tea was gone then. He couldn’t help but meet Konoha’s gaze as he answered.

“It was your face. The expression you made afterward...I couldn’t get it out of my head. All I could think about was how much I liked you and how much I wanted to comfort you. I thought I would definitely go crazy if I had to hold it in while trying to train. I had to let it out.”

“Hm. When you put it that way, it sounds a little like pity.”

“I thought you might say that, but I think you know me better.”

Konoha scrunched his nose and smiled, a rare expression of delighted perplexity Tatsuki would do anything to see more of. “You’re probably right,” Konoha said as he planted his hands on the floor between the two of them. “So, it wasn’t sympathy that motivated you, but...adoration?”

Tatsuki thought he might go blind if he had to stare at Konoha any longer, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away either.

“I would say...that’s accurate.”

The face Konoha wore was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. One half of his mouth curled up in a smug grin; his eyes narrowed in something akin to a frown, but not quite, as their gaze drifted down. People often commented on Tatsuki’s face, no matter if it was resting, angry, or smiling, and called it intimidating or scary. Konoha’s face then looked how he imagined people saw his face when they looked at him.

It only took him a second to come to that conclusion; that was all the time he had before Konoha lunged forward and kissed him.

The impact of Konoha’s lips meeting his knocked him back against his bed. On instinct, his hand reached up and grabbed Konoha’s shoulder. Before he could react with anything other than surprise, Konoha pulled away, as fast as he had charged forward. He watched Tatsuki with that incomprehensible expression still on his face, and Tatsuki frowned.

‘Why did you do that?”

“You -- ” Konoha’s face dropped and he moved back to where he had been sitting. “You...told me I was special. And you basically said you like me so much it’s unbearable. What else was I supposed to do?”

“But I told you I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“Yeah, but you said that because -- because you thought -- I _can’t believe_ \-- are you...for _real_ right now? _That’s_ what’s bothering you?! You think I’m trying to use your body to console myself?”

“Yes,” Tatsuki answered.

Konoha slapped his hands to his face, rubbed them up and down against his cheeks and groaned into his palms. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?!”

Tatsuki opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but before he could get anything out, Konoha held a hand up to silence him.

“You know, I like the sound of your laugh too. I only heard it once, but I liked it. A lot. I like how your text messages read like formal cover letters and the face you make when you eat something sweet. I like how you’re silent a lot of the time because you don’t say unnecessary stuff. I talk a lot of bullshit but you just say whatever needs to be said, and it kinda pisses me off when you’re so blunt but it’s the kinda mad that makes me like you even more. I like your scary face because the more people who are too intimidated to get close to you, the less competition I have for your attention. And I like how your face is like that but your personality is like -- well, like this.”

Konoha took a deep breath, and Tatsuki wondered if he was done speaking. Instead, he continued.

“I like the way you confessed, how you didn’t make a fuss about it and plainly stated your feelings. Right before our first match of camp, right after coach told me I lost my spot -- your timing is worse than Akaashi’s, by the way -- you walked up to me, told me you liked me, and walked away. Just left me standing there, no fuss about it. I'm not like that. I spent days, weeks, planning my confession in my head. It was going to be a huge event. A grand spectacle. Taking the time to plan such a grand confession gave me an excuse to never actually do it. I don't think I ever would’ve worked up the courage. Then you came along and did it for me...bastard.”

Konoha’s hand dropped to the floor and he turned his face down. “And even though...it’s _mind-numbingly frustrating_ ...I even like how you’re so dense you can’t tell I’ve been trying to get you to kiss me all night because _I want you to kiss me._ Fucking hell,” he added, clutching his chest in his hand, “I don’t know how you did that before. That was so embarrassing. I might actually die from it.”

Tatsuki stared at him as he processed everything Konoha had said. “Konoha.” He pressed his palms against the floor and pushed himself away from the bed, leaning toward Konoha, who turned at his name to see Tatsuki move toward him and jolted.

“Konoha, do you like me?”

“Seriously?” His shoulders dropped and his scowl returned, an expression Tatsuki had grown familiar with but would never tire of. “I kiss you, give you that monologue, and you still have the nerve to ask me that?”

“Yes, I’m seriously asking that.”

“I’m not like you...I can’t just...state everything so plainly, y’know.”

“You just finished reciting a list of things you like about me. Isn’t that pretty plain?”

“Then what do you need me to say it again for?”

With a frown, Tatsuki decided to give up on that battle for the moment and picked a new one instead. He moved to sit on his knees, placed his hands in his lap, and faced Konoha.

“Please kiss me again.”

“What?!” Konoha’s face twisted and Tatsuki wondered if it was tiring for all of the muscles in his face to be so consistently expressive. “Why?! Aren’t you being too greedy?”

“I wasn’t prepared the first time. I couldn’t appreciate it properly because you weren’t clear about your feelings beforehand.”

“It -- it’s not my fault you weren’t prepared! Expect the unexpected!”

“If every kiss is a surprise, how will I be able to properly appreciate them?”

“Learn to read the mood, I guess! Or always be ready!” Konoha raised his hands and waved his arms around wildly. “I could attack at any time!”

“Then can I kiss you?”

Silence stretched between them. Konoha’s chin bounced up and down, his mouth formed the shape of words but no sound came out; his face turned redder and redder as Tatsuki moved closer.

“Akinori -- ”

Then Konoha’s hand shot between the two of them, a barricade between their faces. “Okay, no, just as I thought...too intense...”

Tatsuki put his hand up to meet Konoha’s and weaved their fingers together. “Is this too intense?” He pulled their hands toward him, pressed Konoha’s hand against his mouth and left a kiss on the heel of his palm. “What about this?”

Konoha shook his head.

“Then this is enough.”

Tatsuki rested back on his legs, squeezed Konoha’s hand in his. He hadn’t noticed how warm his face was until he sat back and watched Konoha stare at him. A blissful ache spread from his chest to his toes, warming his whole body, making his skin itch in the most insatiable way --

But Konoha didn’t give him any more time to examine his faculties. He lunged forward, once again, to press a kiss against Tatsuki’s lips.

He had time to savor it then. He leaned into Konoha, brushing his fingers against his cheek, digging his fingers into the base of his skull. He tasted like the color blue -- the ice cream bar he'd eaten, the petulant mood he liked to put on, the sweater he wore over his uniform when it was cold out. When Konoha pulled away, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. There was too much distance between them; it was unbearable.

“My heart is beating like crazy,” Konoha said, twisting the front of his shirt in his fist.

Tatsuki pulled their still entwined hands toward him, held them against his chest so Konoha could feel the rhythm that beat against his ribcage. “Mine too.”

“You’re seriously too much, you know that?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Konoha pulled his hand away; it’s absence made Tatsuki feel cold all over. “I gotta get outta here. I can’t take another second of this.”

“Not even to finish your tea?”

Konoha looked down at the table, where his untouched tea still sat. “Well, I guess...just until my tea is done.”

He brought the mug to his mouth and took an impossibly slow, infinitesimally small sip. Tatsuki watched him and felt nothing but adoration and wonder.

“I like that, too,” Konoha said, peering over his mug at Tatsuki.

“The tea?”

Konoha shook his head. “That face you make when you look at me. Like you have no choice but to like me.”

“I don't think I do.”

Konoha raised the mug to his mouth, but he couldn’t take a drink through his smile. Instead, he simply mumbled, “good,” into the rim of his cup.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Tatsuki wanted to walk Konoha to the train station, but Konoha refused.

“I keep telling you, you’re _too much,_ ” Konoha complained. “How am I supposed to get on the train to leave if you’re there?”

They were standing on the other side of the gate in front of Tatsuki’s house, just a short distance away from the street. A short distance, but it wasn’t a journey either of them were eager to make.

“Konoha,” Tatsuki started. Konoha’s hand was already in his; he held it up, rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. “I’m a little surprised by you. I didn’t think that you liked me, in a romantic sense.”

“Well, I’m an elusive guy, you know? I’m a pro at hiding my feelings.”

Tatsuki made no comment on the validity of Konoha’s statement. “It was more the fact that...you seem to avoid me at times.”

“When did I ever avoid you?!”

“You’ve always refused to sit by me on the bus.”

“Of course I did!” Konoha raised both their hands and knocked them against the side of Tatsuki’s head. “It was embarrassing! Isn’t that obvious?”

A frown creased Tatsuki’s forehead. “So that’s how it was.”

“Washio…” Konoha sighed and raised his free hand to pinch Tatsuki’s cheek. “How about from now on, I only sit by you on the bus, okay?”

“Thank you, Konoha,” Tatsuki said. Konoha stared at him with a frown. And then he added, “does that go for the train as well?”

The fingers that pinched his cheek moved, took a hold of both of his cheeks and squished them together. Konoha smirked. “Y’know, you’re frustratingly cute sometimes.”

Konoha looked up at him the same way he imagined he looked at Konoha -- with fondness, confusion, delight. Like he couldn’t help but to like him. He lifted his hand to Konoha’s cheek, and that expression changed -- it was anxious, expectant, eager. He leaned forward and Konoha’s hand dropped between them, and then he stopped.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Tatsuki warned.

“I got that! You don’t have to point it out! It ruins the atmosph -- ”

Tatsuki cut him off with a kiss, kissing him exactly how he thought he should be kissed -- slowly, softly, and with a smile on his face.

He pulled away and Konoha frowned, so he smoothed his thumb over the creases in his brow, manually softening Konoha’s expression. Konoha only frowned harder at him.

“Are you sure you want to go home?” Tatsuki asked.

“Washio, please. Are we gonna kiss all night? C’mon, we gotta be responsible.”

“No, I meant...you said earlier you didn’t want to go home.”

“...Oh. Right.” Konoha brushed Tatsuki’s hand off his forehead, pulled it down between the two of them and locked their fingers together. “I have to go home eventually. Might as well end the night on a good note.”

“This is a good note,” Tatsuki said, confirming Konoha’s statement. He wrapped his arm around Konoha, embraced him the way he’d always wanted to, squeezed his hand into the curve of his lower back, right where it belonged. Konoha’s arm hooked around his neck, pulling him down to his height.

“I’m saying this because I haven’t really, actually, properly said it yet, but...I really like you, Washio Tatsuki.”

Tatsuki really, truly, honestly thought his heart might burst from joy at the sound of his full name.

“Konoha...I have a question for you,” Tatsuki said. Konoha raised his eyebrows in inquiry. “What is a panda’s favorite food?”

“Uh...bamboo?”

Tatsuki shook his head. “It’s _pan._ ”

That scowl appeared once again. “Pan…?”

“It’s -- it’s a pun,” Tatsuki explained. “You said I should try and be funnier…”

For half a second, Konoha squinted his eyes at Tatsuki, and then realization washed over his face. Almost as soon as it had, he grabbed the front of Tatsuki’s shirt, yanked him forward into another kiss, and Tatsuki decided comedy was indeed a worthwhile hobby to invest in.

**Author's Note:**

> um...i love konoha and i love washio and washikono is pretty great.
> 
> come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/boomairspike) if you want!


End file.
